Breakfast for Dinner

November 06, 2014: Barry and Mack bond over breakfast foods.


IHOP, the temple of breakfasty goodness- that place that sees the strange overlap of late-night college students hanging out and early-bird senior citizens looking for a good (or at least satisfying) morning repast. This particular locale maintains the franchise's standard look- with comfortable booths in muted patterns, tables featuring the classic arched-back wooden chairs and dark green carpet.

This particular locale seems is used to the comings and goings of the super-crowd, and the far wall has a host of framed pictures of notable groups of heroes (most of them on the young-ish side) who have stopped here for one reason or another. Busy servers dart to and from the kitchen taking orders and carrying dishes to their respective tables. No matter the hour, this particular IHOP seems to enjoy a decent level of activity.



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Mood Music:

Barry Allen eats a lot of food and IHOP gives a lot of bang for your buck. He's heading out to a concert tonight, and needs to get some grub after a long day doing criminal science. Large stack of pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, hashbrowns, toast, malt, and soda for some va-va-voom.

Being new in the city he doesn't have anyone to hang out with, so he's one of the few people you'll ever see up at the bar of the place.

The cheery warmth of iHop carries the promise of comfort on a chilly New York night. Mack Linden is bundled up in multiple layers of flannel and cotton, with a dark wool cap jammed down over her blonde locks and a knitted scarf wrapped around her neck. She steps into the restaurant and waves off the hostess, sucking in a breath full of pancake-y goodness before she heads for the bar and slips onto a stool near Barry. "Coffee, black, and the caramel bon bon pancakes," she requests of the waitress as she tugs off her gloves.

From a few stools down, Barry notices Mack come in the door and gives her a nod as she enters. For a while, he's back to eating his own dinner and minding his own business, but being new in town means you have to put yourself out there and be friendly to people, even if this is New York and even if that makes you look like some old lonely weirdo. "I hear those are good," he says about her purchase. "You're a breakfast person for dinner too?"

Mack unwinds her scarf and lets it just rest across her shoulders. There is a faint whiff of cigarette smoke coming off her, mingled with the smell of the sea. She glances over at the bookish guy a few seats down. "More a fan of more food, less money, and breakfast does that better than anyone else," she admits with a half smile. "And they're good if you like a major sugar rush, leading to a hard crash and a good night's sleep." Her coffee is set in front of her and she sips it. "Getting cold out there," she notes.

"Agreed. I've always been of the opinion of that pancakes should be an 'anytime' food," Barry says with a knowing nod. He sets down his knife and looks over at her again, "It is. I heard winter was pretty bad here last year. Here's hoping that this one is a heck of a lot better."

"It was pretty rough," Mack agrees, settling back and perusing all the food on his plate. "Are you here with someone?" because that is a lot of food for such a…slight fellow.

Barry shakes his head, not realizing the obvious and almost thinking for a moment that she was making a pass at him. "No, I'm here alone." And then he gets it. "Oh, I mean, yeah. I uh…I had a long day at work and am just sort of going all out."

"You eat like a dock hand," Mack says with a chuckle. Her plate of pancakes is set in front of her and she digs into them with gusto. Normally she hits diners of a greasier variety, but she was in the area picking up a winch part. "You don't look like the sort who works on the docks," she points out.

Barry can't help but exhale in a laugh with a big smile as he shakes his head. "No, actually I work for the NYPD. I'm a criminal scientist. Of course…I'm new. It's only my third day. What about you?"

Mack gives the fellow a closer look when he mentions he's a cop. "Fishing boat captain. Mack, nice to meet you." She offers a callused hand to shake. "What does a criminal scientist do? That sounds more like a supervillain title or something."

Barry chuckles, "I mean, I'm a crime scene investigator." This writer thinks he just likes the scientist part somewhere in his name. ANYWAYS. "I kind of help break down crime scenes. Run tests and that sort of thing." Barry's uncallused hand shakes hers. "Fishing boat captain? That sounds pretty fun. Get to be your own boss. Get to be outside a lot."

"Get to breathe in the sea air, mingled with diesel fumes, get to haul in nets full of very angry cod, get to freeze your ass off on deck in high seas in mid winter," Mack adds with a grin. "But yeah, I do actually love it. When you find something you were born to do, and they let you do it, it's a pretty great feeling." She sips her coffee. "So you're like the guys on that CSI show?"

Barry smile-laughs widely again and shakes his head, "Well, I get that a lot. And to be honest I've never really seen one of those shows so I can't be sure. I imagine it takes all the exciting parts of what I do and amps them up, while it totally ignores the boring parts. No clue though. What about you? Are there any shows about fishboat captains?"

"JAWS," Mack answers, with a smirk. "And the Deadliest Catch, but cod trawling is on the other end of the danger spectrum from crab fishing in the Bering Sea." She chews and swallows a mouthful of pancakes. "I figure those shows are what tech can do, but pretty much no actual police departments can afford it all. Ok maybe Metropolis."

Barry nods, "Yeah, I mean, we have some of the stuff here in New York, things I would only dream about from where I come from. But at the same time, there's a lot of things we can't afford, or maybe we have one device in the whole city with a waiting list a mile long. That sort of thing." He laughs at the Jaws comment. "We're gonna need a bigger boat…" he says idly.

"I think my 90 footer will do okay against Bruce the shark," Mack says with a chuckle. "I imagine if you look at crime scenes, we'll see each other now and then. The New York Harbor is a pretty rough place.

FlashFact: 23 percent of the Flashes busts happened along the docks on the river. He's not sure why that sort of thing happens that way. Probably because it's usually out of the way. Quiet after dark. Large spaces. Wareh—you know what, it makes a lot of sense when you think about it. And yes, he does keep track of those statistics in a google drive spreadsheet. Don't worry, it's properly cryptic.

"Well that would be pretty cool. I don't really know many people here in to—" Wait. That came out wrong. "What I mean is, that I hope it's under better circumstances than luminol spray and asking you for height and weight for a perp."

"Well if you're down around Dock 32, stop by to say hi. The Quint's Folly is usually parked in slip 19, as long as I get my rent check to them on time," Mack quips with a grin. "Just ah, try not to look too," she looks for a proper term, "coppy. Makes the dock workers skittish."

Barry looks over his shoulder and then down at his clothing: he's wearing a sweater, plaid shirt unerneath with bluejeans and chuckies. "Do you think I look coppish?" His nose wrinkles.

"Well not right now. You look more like a college student. Or an assistant professor maybe." Mack grins. "But I figure you have one of those CSI jackets or something, might wanna lose that before coming by for a social call."

"Yeah, I can do that. I usually just go in what I'm wearing. I don't actually wear a jacket like that to crime scenes. Just whatever I'm wearing that day." As opposed to not what he's wearing that day, maybe. Who knows? "But I'll be sure to act as uncoppy as I can. I would say that you can stop by the lab if you're ever in the area, but I don't imagine you much care for hanging out at Police Headquarters."

"I know a few of the guys, they used to play poker with my granddad on Monday nights," Mack notes with a chuckle. "But I know what it's like to be the new person in town, I was that person a while back myself. I'll make you a deal. I'll meet you back here for pancakes in a week, and you can tell me how it's going for you?"

Barry nods as he gets out his wallet to pay for his food, "You know, I think I'd like that Mack. And I'm sure that you'll have some stories to tell yourself. I imagine that fishboat captains have the best fish stories out there."

"Fishtales galore, every one of us," Mack replies. Mostly, she realizes there's a new guy in town, young, alone, and working for the police. Might be good to have a friend that can be relied on in the department.

"I imagine. It was really nice meeting you," Barry says with a chuckle as he stands and puts his wallet back in his pocket. "In a week. A week from right now?" He checks his watch to make sure he's got the time down. "I'll be here."

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